


words don’t come easy

by jjokkiri



Series: monsta x bingo (winter 2017) [8]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mecha Pilots AU, Monsta X Bingo, War AU, broken!kiho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9716003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/pseuds/jjokkiri
Summary: When they called a ceasefire, they didn’t say anything about firing bullets at lost, hopeless, empty hearts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the _Mecha Pilots_ square of [Monsta X Bingo](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/MXbingo).

 

The sky filled itself with a dreary grey pattern, clouds draped themselves across the once-blue sky and painted it a dull, ashen hue. A storm in the skies would only make the afternoon gloomier, but the storm existed in Shin Hoseok’s heart. It had been a slight glimmer in the glass, just before the ceasefire had been called, that the reflection through the vision field of his mecha. His eyes had registered the sight of a familiar face behind the glass and his breath caught in the back of his throat. Had the immediate ceasefire not been called, perhaps his lack of concentration would have knocked the mecha off balance. That would have been dangerous.

But, Hoseok was on solid ground now, no need to pilot a giant robot with his mind and soul, so he wandered the edge of the river with his mind swirling in absent thoughts. Perhaps, it was a flicker of his imagination——a moment where his eyes saw what they wanted to see——but, he swore that it couldn’t have been. Clearly, before his eyes was the all-too-familiar face of his ex-boyfriend, just before he’d vanished from the face of the planet.

The memory of Yoo Kihyun was too vivid, but there was no way that his mind would have caused the flash of such a familiar visage in an opposing war mecha. The idea itself seemed too surreal and the image too real, to just be the forced flash of a memory. Their relationship traced back several years, to when fear overrode every nerve in Hoseok’s body when he thought of losing everything——it had been his motivation to learn to pilot a mecha (to protect everything he’d ever learned to love). That was where he had met Kihyun. The younger man had been significantly better at piloting his mecha and he took pride in it; so much pride that Hoseok hated it, until he adored it. Until he adored Kihyun.

Imagining seeing Kihyun on the battlefield was a completely different story.

On the battlefield, Hoseok fought for the side of the rebellion he believed in——the country had split itself apart and the beliefs of both sides seemed to blur, yet Hoseok firmly believed in the side accepting of civil equity over government corruption, no matter how much the lines skewed. And as much as he wanted to think of the hopeful and pray for the best, Hoseok knew that he’d never seen Kihyun at the meetings for their side, which could only mean that they weren’t allies. It only triggers a mental whisper in his mind: _maybe, you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did._ But, Hoseok swore they’d been perfect for one another.

Back at the academy, when all the wars were hypothetical aspects of study and they’d curled up in one another’s arms at the end of the night——before Kihyun had vanished from the face of the planet with nothing more than a quiet apology and a kiss goodnight (which Hoseok only later learned was a kiss _goodbye_ )——it had been easier. Every student at the academy shared the same beliefs and they piloted the same mechas; it made sense that Hoseok would assume for Kihyun to have been like him.

But, if it really had been Kihyun’s face he saw in the reflection of the glass, then maybe, he didn’t know who his ex-boyfriend truly was. Maybe, he didn’t know him as well as he would have liked to believe. After all, he’d never anticipated that Kihyun would leave him without so much as a whispered apology, lacking all the explanations he thought he deserved to have.

He’d need to clear his mind before the ceasefire call vanished, because it was temporary: merely for discussion, but the Generals had insisted that any type of truce agreement would be nullified if anyone was injured during the discussion. If they needed him on the field again, then he would need to have all the heavy thoughts out of his head; he was one of their best pilots, and a lack of concentration could be fatal to all of them.

So, with a heavy heart, Hoseok’s footsteps took careful strides across the pathway and his eyes focused themselves of the ground, and then he was halting to turn his attention to where the waterside glimmered. Something about it always seemed to calm his mind. And once upon a time, Yoo Kihyun had told him that he reminded him of water; something about a fluid, refreshing mentality——Hoseok hadn’t known what to think of the remark, back then. Still, he isn’t sure what it really meant.

Somehow, Yoo Kihyun always seemed to be a little bit of a mystery. Even now, Hoseok couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the idea that _perhaps_ , he’d seen someone he never thought he’d ever see again. To think that he’d lost all contact with the love of his life and then, now, he was seeing him again. Hoseok couldn’t tell if this was just a figment of his imagination from exerting too much of his emotional strength into controlling the mecha——he’d heard stories about people falling into broken fantasies from overworking their minds in favour of handling the mechas; all of them being horror stories, rather than reminiscing the visage of a sweet love.

There was a shuffling sound from behind him, and Hoseok snapped himself out of the absent thoughts lingering in his mind. His senses have always been sparked to respond to the slightest of actions; every soldier needed to be perfectly aware of their surroundings, and learning to pilot a mecha only helped him increase that skill.

He heard a voice before he had the time to turn his head and recognize a face.

“I thought I saw your face,” came a familiar voice from in front of him and Hoseok looked up from where he was focused on the glistening surface of the riverside’s coursing stream. “I didn’t think I would ever see it, again.”

His eyes met with Kihyun’s, standing across from him, just several feet away. It reminded him of the first time he’d stepped out of his first solo mission at the piloting academy, and Kihyun had been waiting for him just outside of the testing zone——, bright smile on his lips and ready to pull him into a congratulating embrace. Hoseok couldn’t say that he could see anything similar happening now.

His voice caught at the back of his throat. He’d never imagined seeing Kihyun again; never prepared himself to have any particular mindset, when he finally saw his love again. So, here he stood, his entirety bared out to Kihyun, as everything he was: raw emotions slowly breaking him to pieces with every passing second.

“I never thought I’d see you again, either,” he replied, eyes running across Kihyun’s visage and then he was tearing his eyes away from the younger man, unable to look him in the eye.

But, there lacked a true tension between the two of them (it’s something else). Hoseok would imagine that if the love of your life disappeared without so much more than two words, one day, and then magically materialized back in front of you, there would be a little bit more tension involved——more anger. Yet, between the two of them, there only seemed to be a hushed peace, swallowing them as if nothing else existed.

It reminded him of the very first time they fell into one another’s arms and whispered gentle words of sweet, sweet affection to each other——that familiar shield wrapping them into themselves: not caring about anything else in the world, because in that moment, all that existed was _them_.

“Well, here we are,” Kihyun replied, and the sound of his voice echoed loudly in Hoseok’s mind; ricocheting in his head, as if Kihyun was right beside him and whispering into his ears. It was like he’d stepped back two years in time, and _nothing_ has changed between them.

Except _everything_ has changed.

“Where have you been?” _How could you just come back like this?_

“Places,” Kihyun answered, eyes downcast as he took careful steps towards Hoseok’s side. The blond didn’t move, staying still where he stood by the riverside and waited for Kihyun to come to him. Back to him.

“That’s hardly an answer,” Hoseok told him, when the ghosting of Kihyun’s figure brushed against him when the younger man came to stand beside him. Yet, he stood entirely too far away to have caused the phantom touch. The younger man didn’t grace him with a proper answer to the remark.

Kihyun had always been like that, but Hoseok wondered how he never quite noticed that in the years when they were everything to one another. Perhaps, he’d been too deep in what he firmly believed was love; even if he didn’t quite know anything about Kihyun, aside from the fact that he was such a skilled pilot and he’d _promised_ they belonged to one another. Two years ago, Hoseok didn’t believe in broken promises and wounded hearts.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Kihyun’s voice cut through the silence, piercing with that same strength that Hoseok recognized. And maybe, _just maybe_ , not everything has changed.

(And he wonders if distance really does make the heart grow fonder.)

“I do,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and absently pressing his fingers against himself, mind wandering to what the younger man could possibly want to achieve with the inquiry. He could never forget the moment they met; Yoo Kihyun left an impression he could never remove from his mind. Truthfully, it had been what pulled Hoseok in and never quite let him go; it was what kept him reminiscing about the younger man and their lost, hopeless relationship on lonely, dark nights when he couldn’t fall asleep.

“It feels like so much has changed, hasn’t it?” Kihyun asked, the corners of his lips pulling into a small smile. And Hoseok suddenly wanted to tell him that _everything has changed_ , but with a single glance to the younger man’s expression, he was struck with the familiarity in Kihyun’s smile. And no, _not everything has changed._ Kihyun was still as beautiful as ever, and Hoseok never really got over that.

“It would be a surprise that nothing has changed, after two years, Kihyun.” His name fell from Hoseok’s lips so smoothly, so naturally, and Hoseok was left missing their past: remembering the way Kihyun’s lips used to curl into a smile and he’d kiss Hoseok whenever he called his name, before asking him what he needed.

The memory still made Hoseok’s heart flutter on the odd day. Somehow, today was one of those days.

“When I first met you,” Kihyun started, his fingers brushing through his hair——he’d cut it short; a clean undercut and he’d dyed it a caramel colour. Hoseok remembered a softer, shaggy dark brown hairstyle, but he supposed that Kihyun looked amazing either way. “I thought you were beautiful,” a glance to the other pilot, “And I still do, so I suppose that everything hasn’t changed too much.”

If it had been years ago, then perhaps Hoseok might have melted at the words and let himself fall into Kihyun’s arms with the softest smile on his lips. But, now, it didn’t seem to have the same effect on him. Yet, he couldn’t deny that his mind worked in the same way: Yoo Kihyun was as beautiful as ever, and his breath found itself escaping just as easily as it had, years ago.

“When you first left,” Hoseok told him, eyes flickering to meet with Kihyun’s, “I thought you’d come back to me. But, you didn’t and when I stopped believing in that, you’re standing in front of me. I suppose you’re right, when you say that things haven’t changed too much: I still want an explanation from you.”

And almost immediately, the younger man’s eyes clouded over with an unspoken guilt. Hoseok had hoped that his words would have that kind of effect on him. It was the intention on being so direct with this words; he’d never spoken to harshly to the other before. But, he’d learned that if you ever wanted answers, then being direct was the only way to get what you wanted, in this day and age.

“I don’t think that’s something I can give you, Hoseok,” Kihyun replied, and something in his voice sounded so sad, so broken.

But, Hoseok fixed him with a careful gaze, “Why not?”

And there’s a regretful smile on Kihyun’s lips, familiarity in his words; “I’d love to tell you, if I knew how to find the words to tell you.”

“You always say that,” Hoseok exhaled, “You always change the topic and pretend I never asked anything.”

Kihyun’s smile vanished for a moment, and then he was pressing his lips into another smile; a quiet, sad one. It wasn’t a look that was familiar to Hoseok, when it marred Kihyun’s pretty visage. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“I am,” and there was a sincerity in his voice. Hoseok believed him.

There was a silence between them. Comfortable, as it had always been; but deathly quiet, nonetheless. The wind blew past them with a muted whistle; Hoseok let his eyes flicker to where his and Kihyun’s eyes met with one another. And then, Kihyun’s eyes tore themselves away from his and it was gone.

Kihyun’s eyes studied the badge on the breast of Hoseok’s jacket and the older man self-consciously grasped at the lapel, eyes shaking under Kihyun’s scrutinizing gaze. And a part of his mind whispered to him that he should be looking at Kihyun with those same, betrayed eyes.

But, their differences were what had drawn them together to begin everything. The catalyst to their love had been all of their differences; Kihyun completed him, because he was everything Hoseok wasn’t. They fit together like little puzzle pieces, but Hoseok couldn’t help but wonder when and how they’d grown astray.

“Come here,” Hoseok breathed, finally. He took a seat on the ground, letting his legs hang off the side of the dirt ledge, motioning for Kihyun to join him on the ground. It reminded him of the absent days when they weren’t expected to be training themselves to death in the practice rooms, and they escaped to the cliff-side to just _talk_. “Take a seat with me. Let’s talk.”

“Like the old days?” Kihyun asked, softly.

“Yeah... just like that,” Hoseok answered, not looking at the younger man.

Despite being on opposite sides of the war and knowing that he should never turn his back, unguarded, to an enemy, there was something in Kihyun which settled an undying trust between them. Whether it was mutual or not stayed a mystery to Hoseok, but he would continue to believe in the man he was once so madly in love with (because, maybe he never really stopped).

“What do you want to talk about?” Kihyun asked, cautiously taking a seat next to Hoseok. And again, there was that whirling silence around them which convinced Hoseok that nothing else in the world existed, outside of them and the atmosphere surrounding them. It was so _simple_ with Kihyun, yet so complicated, all at the same time. Hoseok wondered if walking paradoxes existed, and if Yoo Kihyun symbolized exactly that.

“Anything,” he replied, eyes raising to where the sun shone down on them; glistening brightly through the thick cluster of depressing clouds, despite the abhorrent gloom which came with unavoidable warfare.

“What did you do, after I left?” Kihyun inquired after a beat of silence. The blond didn’t turn his head to look at Kihyun, instead continued to look towards the open waterfront with unwavering eyes.

“After you left?” Hoseok prompted, lips pursed as he tilted his head to the sky, still ever as dreary. “After you resigned from the academy, or after you left me? Both, maybe?”

He didn’t need to look at Kihyun to know that the younger man’s eyes were shaking with an unspeakable guilt, and he wished that there were words that would leave Kihyun’s lips and tell him the full story: about why he left, because he swore they were so in love and he couldn’t pinpoint where they went wrong.

“... After I resigned,” he finally said. Hoseok turned to look at Kihyun, regarding him wordlessly, but it seemed as though a message still moved between them. Hoseok could hardly pinpoint what it meant, but there had always been some sort of underlying telepathy between them. Maybe, that was what made them think that they were made for one another (not just foolish, young hearts).

“I sat up in bed and stared out of a window, wondering what I did to make you leave me,” Hoseok answered, simply. Even across their distance, he could feel Kihyun’s body stiffening at the words, and the blond exhaled. “I’m kidding. I forced myself to graduate as a solo pilot, because my partner wasn’t around anymore; thought it’d be better than trying to find a new partner.” _No one would have the chemistry we had, anyway._

“No one would have the chemistry we had, anyway,” Kihyun murmured, and Hoseok looked at him in surprise. He seemed to have read his thoughts exactly. Kihyun flushed, despite his visage remaining expressionless, “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not saying anything weird: that’s what you were thinking. I can still read you like a book, Shin.”

Hoseok chuckled, relishing in the fact that it truly seemed like not much has changed, “Of course.” he exhaled with a smile, “Of course you can.”

And suddenly, the almost-absent tension between the two of them broke; like magic, enemy titles shattered with a single chuckle, and it truly felt like nothing else in the world mattered. (Maybe, a part of Hoseok always liked to believe, before he’d forced himself to grow up and learn better, that nothing in the world did matter aside from Kihyun and his love for the younger man.)

The defensive shield Hoseok held up between them, as if he believed that Kihyun might pry at his heart and tear it apart, all over again, shattered and he’s baring himself to the younger man all over again. Pure, raw emotion; a helpless, vulnerable state that he _still_ somehow trusted Kihyun with, even after everything.

“You really haven’t changed at all, have you?” Hoseok said, eyes flickering up to meet with Kihyun’s small, relieved smile.

“Not really,” Kihyun answered, and there was that familiar flicker of adoration in his eyes. Hoseok wondered if it was still possible to be head-over-heels still in love with the enemy.

“You’ve just switched sides,” Hoseok added, “You’re fighting for the other side, now.”

Kihyun sighed, “If it was my choice, I’d still be by your side.”

And Hoseok wanted to ask _why_ , but he already knew that Kihyun wouldn’t answer him. Probably couldn’t answer him, because the government seemed to strictly close down on every little detail disclosed between sides. He just wished that he could have gotten his answers before Kihyun slipped away from him, through the spaces between his fingers.

“Then, did you miss me?”

“Dearly,” Kihyun answered, without hesitation. “But, I didn’t think we’d ever see one another again, so I gave up on that hope.”

“You sound like a captured soldier.”

“I might be.” Sad eyes flickered to Hoseok and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to soothingly run his fingers through the younger man’s hair and promise him that everything was going to be okay. Even if he couldn’t keep that promise; even if he knew nothing at all.

Because if there was something of Yoo Kihyun’s that truly never changed, it was his mysteriousness. That same factor which drew Hoseok in and never dared to let him go.

“I missed you, too,” Hoseok said. Kihyun looked at him. “Don’t look so surprised; I loved you. It’s normal to miss someone when they were everything to you and then they vanish.”

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?” Kihyun’s tone was playful, despite the accusing expression on his face. Hoseok chuckled and tilted his head back.

“No,” he answered, eyes twinkling with amusement, “I’d never do such a thing.”

“I think you would,” Kihyun retorted, eyes narrowed as he leaned a little closer to study Hoseok’s face. The blond pretended that his heartbeat stayed at that even pace (but even he couldn’t lie to himself and ignore the undeniable skip of his heart, and he hated how someone could have such an effect on him after all this time. After they’d been broken for so long; and his mind whispers that _anything broken could somehow be fixed_ ).

“Why do you think that? What makes you think something like that?” Hoseok couldn’t help the smile on his lips, curled upwards in a fluttering amusement.

“You’re all for emotional attacks over physical attacks,” Kihyun answered, his accusing tone sounding light and airy as it broke off into a sweet laughter, “You’d much rather manipulate the enemy into being emotionally unstable and unable to properly handle their mecha than you would prefer to rely on physical attack. I know you.”

Hoseok pressed his lips into a thin smile, “But, you’re not my enemy right now. There’s a temporary ceasefire cast. All you are right now is Yoo Kihyun, the really cute and very skilled mecha pilot I met while I was still at the academy, whom I fell in love with. The person who left me, but I’m seeing again after years, and it still feels like we’d seen one another just a few days ago.”

Kihyun faltered at Hoseok’s words and his eyes flickered with an unspoken regret. A part of Hoseok suddenly believed that he might have let himself slip too far away, and he might have said something he shouldn’t have. But, his heart promised him that there was truly no other _better_ time to spill his heart to Kihyun.

“I really did miss you,” Kihyun whispered. And for the first time, it felt like the younger man was finally baring all of his emotions to Hoseok; putting them all on display for _only Hoseok’s eyes_.

But, it wasn’t Hoseok’s imagination nor a phantom gesture when Kihyun leaned a little closer to him, crossing into Hoseok’s personal space, his hands moving to gently rest on Hoseok’s shoulder to brace his weight as he leaned into him. And at their proximity, Hoseok could inhale the familiar scent of Kihyun’s hair (something alike to gentle flowers in the wind and a unique musk that was simply _Kihyun_ ).

Hoseok thinks Kihyun might be leaning in to kiss him.

And he’d never really find out, because they were snapped away from their imaginary world where they only existed together, for one another, when a loud voice pierced through the air between them.

_“Captain!”_

There was a small figure appearing from over the top of the hill which covered them from the view of the battlefield; the small boy waved to Hoseok, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting at them, “Captain! The Commander needs you! Says it’s urgent!”

Kihyun’s eyes flickered to the figure and when Hoseok turned back to him, after acknowledging the boy, the younger man’s eyes peered into his. “Is that Changkyun?”

Hoseok nodded, “It is. He’s grown up, hasn’t he? He’s one of our best, now.”

And Kihyun is smiling at him, lips curled into a proud smile. Hoseok thinks it’s because he’d been the one who spotted the talent in the young man, before Changkyun joined the force. It’s a reasonable pride, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. Kihyun looked up to Hoseok, studying him in silence for a moment.

“I suppose that our time together is up, since your Commander needs you,” he said, standing up and brushing the dirt off of his pants with his hands. “It was nice catching up with you, but we’re enemies now. You’re playing for the other team, so I’ll see you on the battlefield; may the better pilot win.”

The younger man bent down, and his lips gently pressed to Hoseok’s forehead; a lingering touch before it was gone, and it happened so quickly that Hoseok could have just imagined it. But, there was a telltale flush on Kihyun’s cheeks, a ghosted sadness in his eyes; Hoseok knows it happened.

And when Hoseok watched Kihyun turn his back, there was a subtle flutter in his chest. Perhaps, it was excitement, perhaps not; but all he knew was that he’d finally received that closure he needed, and maybe after the war was over (if they both made it out alive), they’d peacefully settle the storm inside of their hearts.

Because words don’t come easy, and actions speak louder.

Hoseok just wondered if there was victory in _both_ love and war.

**Author's Note:**

> ( i kind of really want the prequel to this, but that will have to wait until after bingo. )  
> have some valentine's day angst. i love you all. and feel free to find me @yuseokki on twitter!


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